#folks waking up post top surgery be like

[skybson]

2x20 - Return to Tomorrow

[silverskye13]

Will enby Helsknight/trans Tanguish/top surgery scars/stubborn avoidant Welsknight in a gender crisis make it into the main story of RnS? Like, a full acknowledgment of it? Because yes, us on tumblr are aware (and happily bully RnS Wels for it) but I’m curious to how it may be brought up in the main storyline instead of rambles and drabbles. (Don’t get me wrong, those rambles and drabbles are what get me through the day. But my best friend, who isn’t in the MCYT fandom whatsoever, just caught up with RnS and doesn’t use tumblr, and besides spamming her with tumblr posts I wanna know how much I can revel in the glory of the skrunkles with her!)

That is a great question, actually. And the answer is I don't really know.

So this is one of the downsides to writing things chapter by chapter. If I had gone into this going "oh heck yeah they're trans", this would've come up in the plot way sooner. It's nice information 1) for all the trans folks reading and 2) because it has the potential to inform the themes in the narrative. This whole story is about two chief things I think: death [the inevitability of] and identity [what defines you and why]. Why should you care if literally no one else (including the universe) does? That would be so cool to speak about in terms of a trans allegory! Why do you care about gender when it's just one thing in a world of crazy things? Or at the very least, how does it inform your identity? But this is a change I made on a whim suddenly, and I know Exactly Where I Want This Plot To Go, so trans topics and allegories as Plot Points probably won't happen.

On the more technical side of introducing trans characters -- how do you do that without just dropping "oh btw they're trans" in? Like, how do you make it a relevant thing to talk about, that doesn't feel forced or shoehorned in, especially this late in the story? Probably me overthinking, but I read it done wrong so often. It gets tired. And if I ever work on my original stories, there are trans characters in there! If I can figure out how to Do It Well in a fanfic, then I can figure out how to do it in original fiction someday maybe. So I kinda wanna take the introduction seriously? I've actually been thinking about it so much I've thought about rewriting the intro to the next chapter ahaha [it already needs rewritten in general, there's a lot going on, but the intro was going to be Helsknight waking up from something, and he sleeps shirtless, and not addressing top surgery scars then would be kinda silly I think.]

I can say at the very least, Gender Avoidant Wels probably won't factor in the story much. He is a character, but I don't think he'll become Enough of a character to faithfully address something like a trans self discovery arc. At best his issues with gender might be mentioned in passing.

Sorry! I know you probably want a better answer! My answer is basically: I don't know I'm still working on it. I want it to be there, but the capacity it's there is undecided.

That being said, I've been sitting on this glorious ask since the shenanigans started and the temptation to just Do That grows every time I read it:

[nicejewishgirl]

fuck the last few months have been hell. I’ve had to worry about my survival and more so my mother as we both have had very serious hospitalizations but it just happened again in Thursday. Every day feels traumatizing. I’m in a nightmare that I can’t wake up from. There’s been so much stress, chaos, and turmoil. My family dynamics have me on edge.

Now my parents and I all have covid bc our local hospital sucks at covid protocols. I didn’t even go inside but got it from my parents (who were masked most of the time even in her hospital room) a couple days later. I’ve never had covid so this was the cherry on top. It’s too much. Like no fucking more!!!

I don’t even want to write out the things that have happened because it makes it feel so much more real and it just upsets me to write out such fatal shit. I still plan to operate jewsforpalestine but I’m literally trying to make it day by day whether that’s due to my own illness or taking care of my mother as if I was a trauma nurse. I haven’t eaten in a couple of days because of the stress and because of how bad my flareup is / possibly from covid.

I haven’t even told you all about how I need full reconstruction on both feet and how the surgeon said my deformity was a 10/10 😍 and that he’s never seen feet so bad (on the x-ray) as all my bones are crunched up and in the wrong spot which is why I have several stress fractures in both feet. I am seeing a few other surgeons as this guy was awful but I also have yo see colorectal surgery to fix my colectomy…. which is fucking frightening.

I’m also trying to manage my severe iron deficiency anemia while constantly worrying if my mom was/is going to make it. Seriously, this last scare really had me panicked. I don’t even feel comfortable saying what it is because it’s her life but what happened was serious… being covid positive complicates her recovery even further. I barely leave her alone and constantly hovering over her. I’m so scared…. I rarely show it though.

There’s soooo much more that I still haven’t mentioned from these past few months but I just wanted to say that I’m still alive 👋… barely lol but I just need to vent. Covid just pushed me over the edge. I’m still free Palestine and still really want to create a collective of like minded folks but I have been in full on crisis, fight or flight mode and haven’t been able to do one thing other than trying to get by.

As I’m typing this, I’ve fallen asleep multiple times creating a variety of typos. I’m not having fun or even doom rolling, watching tiktok, or whatever, etc. I’m taking care of my mom, my dogs, the house, cooking, cleaning, making all of our appointments, dealing with insurance etc. and then fall asleep by 8pm because of my fatigue. My exhaustion (largely due to my anemia & still’s) prevents me from doing soooo much and the lack of oxygen to my brain has definitely effected my cognitive ability, concentration, and executive functioning.

I can’t wait for things to calm down so I can start this project along with answer some of my latest messages that require a detailed response! I also just want to be able to breathe and know that things will be ok. I just wish someone could wrap their arms around me and tell me that but I’m on my own in that regard… hence why my pathetic ass is posting here. 💗

[jamieroxxartist]

Dani Update: 9.28.23 8:00am EST

I have had some people asking about something that I mentioned in the audio post I made about Dani having trouble with her eyes on top of all of her diverticulitis deal.

Yes, I hadn't posted publicly about that and hadn't mentioned it until that audio post. Not for any particular reason other than all of this has been a lot.

So She started about a month and half ago waking up Every morning with very blurred vision and double vision. This leads to heavy-duty dizziness and nausea. You know real fun stuff to wake up to Every Morning. Now it does settle down and become manageable after awhile, but yeah, still. Anyhow we were Real Worried about this.

I was / am thinking that this was probably a side effect of all these hardcore Antibiotics she has been on for the past couple of months. I mean there's a lot of stuff being pumped into her system.

Anyhow Dani made a good point as well. When you're only eating like 200 / 250 calories a day.. that could absolutely lead to issues.

Folks she's not doing this on purpose. She's on this liquid diet because it's all she can hold down and doesn't send her into problems and painful cramping.

But honestly we were both worried it might be something harsher, a brain problem or some-such. And that was a very worrisome and scary thought.

So an MRI was done of her head and brain last week. And we had a week of intensified worry about this until we saw her neurologist (who is great btw) yesterday…

And her brain is ok! No abnormalities! And everyone agrees that this is most likely a result of the medicine and could definitely be a lack of nutrition deal also. Most likely a bit of both. More tests are scheduled and happening tomorrow. And also a Neurology follow up a few weeks from now, post-surgery of course. We are all hoping after her surgery that things settle down.

Thing is her surgery is happening this coming Monday. She is all set for that. Oh! That was another speed bump on that, last week, same day our cat passed away, we got a call from the hospital because they found that there was a problem with her insurance policy; The surgery was not covered! UghhH! So after us both having a panic attack after hearing just how much this surgery was going to cost (up front prior to surgery mind you) We got with the insurance and were able to get her on a plan that Does / will cover the surgery and possibilities that may come up. It was definitely and up and down day… like a lot of them.

Anyhow she is all set now and we verified everything yesterday after seeing the neurologist and everyone has signed off on it and all the T's are now crossed and i's dotted. And both our blood pressure sure did feel like it was back down to were it should be.

There have been a lot of days filled with little speed bumps. Yesterday she got too many antibiotic doses sent, she'll be in the hospital so won't be getting those at home. And at the prices that this medicine costs we had to make sure we don't get charged for them as we won't be needing them and it was a mistake on the pharmacy's side. Just minutia like that, daily. I get it, there's a lot of spinning gears going and we have a lot of plates in the air with all of this. It's just a lot. And all the hiccups don't seem to let up. But there is light at the end of the tunnel and we are pretty confident it isn't a train heading our way.

But we are handling it and getting the bumps knocked out. And it's not always other people, sometimes we make bonehead moves. Last night we had some premade Mashed Potatoes (me with my dinner, Dani as her dinner) and boy was that a mistake. The dried, powder ones, you know that you rehydrate, well those had been fine. She could eat those without issues (other than Monotony. Even chocolate cake would get old if you had to eat it everyday. (no, she cannot have cake)

Anyhow I think that there must have been some sort of preservative additive or something or other in these pre-made ones in the tub because they did not agree with either of us. Me I can take some Imodium and get through (sorry TMI, I know) but poor Dani cannot. She can't mix anything like that with her medication. So She was in pain and having issues last night. So yeah just another night.

So yes, this is were we are. Doctors appointments (pre-surgical and blood stuff) tomorrow and then the surgery Monday. She (we both are) are really ready to get her fixed and on the mend soon.

And thank you to everyone who has reached out and OMGosh the Go FundMe campaign, we are just blown away. See my audio post. Thanks everybody. Now I had better get back to work.

*note: this pic is of Dani and her pet Albino Ball Python, Ursla Whom she loves very much and has not been able to hold since all this started because we didn't want to risk and weird animal contamination with her PICC lines and such. So Ursula has been hanging out with her Papa, but that is no fun. Mamma is always more fun to hang out with. All Papa does is paint and talk to people on the phone ;) lol

[tolookatmyself]

Intros and formalities

Let me introduce myself. I'm J, I'm 22, and I, unfortunately, am a transgender man. I say unfortunately because I don't like being transgender. Maybe that's a controversial opinion.

Every single day I wish I wasn't transgender. Everyday I wake up and look at myself in the mirror and only see the things I want to change, things I have no control over because I was born int he wrong body. And every single day I wish this was something I didn't have to deal with.

Oh how nice it would be to be cisgender! Girl or boy, no matter. Just to be able to go about my day not thinking of how I can't go into a public bathroom. To go to a store in a t-shirt. To try on clothes and not have a panic attack. How nice that would be.

That's not my life and this blog is how I am dealing with that.

I've been on testosterone for three years now. I cannot express how much happier I am with myself. Yes, it is traumatizing having to inject myself with an inch long needle every week. The cost. But I feel amazing, and most of the anxieties of my everyday life have lessened.

Another huge success- I got top surgery! After years and years of binding and probably giving myself some serious back problems. All I can say is it feels like a huge weight has been taken off my chest. (Haha)

When I'm not busying pitying myself for being transgender, I actually have a pretty cool life. I go to music school, and I study music composition and music education. I have a real passion for writing music, especially choral and vocal music, and I hope one day to write music for a choir that I teacher. I absolutely love teaching. It's such a dopamine kick for me. Kids are just so much fun and can brighten any kind of day I'm having. Set to student teach in a middle school music classroom this fall. I lucked out big time, I simply cannot wait!!

After I graduate, I'm hiking the Appalachian Trail. I don't know any other trans men that have done it, but I'm sure they're out there, and I want to connect with them. Since going through surgery and hormones I've become surprisingly more open about my identity and connection to the community. In high school, I wanted to pass as male completely and be 'stealth' by whole life. I think this need to be stealth was fueled by a fear that if someone knew I was trans, they would see me as a woman.

Now, after hormones and surgery, its amazing how much more confident I feel. And so many people have told me that there's no way they could see me as a woman. When I look in the mirror I look so stereotypically male and it makes me feel so confident. And with that confidence I'm able to own the fact that I'm trans just a little more, I'm able to tell people I'm trans without fear that it will change their perception of me. That's pretty neat.

With this need to be stealth, though, I can't say I've ever done much for the community at large. In fact, I haven't even been to a pride parade in four years. Talk about activism, I think I through away my trans flag out of shame.

But I'm not ashamed anymore. I know how much I've accomplished, and maybe I can start to give back to the community and help other folks who aren't so lucky.

That's where my crazy idea comes in. Maybe I'll save that for another blog post.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy reading through his tangled mess of thoughts and feelings, showcasing some of what being trans in today's world is.

[somebodycall911onabc]

Spoon me, you idiot

Post ep4x13 Buddie because my brain is just that episode on loop. Hands up if you're not ready for the season 4 finale, folks. Have some cuddling and love confessions in the meantime.

Buck helps Eddie over the threshold with one hand at Eddie’s elbow and the other pressed against his hip. Eddie’s fine, he’s fine, he’s alive, but he’s exhausted. Pain and shock weigh down his shoulders, make him unsteady on his feet.

Carla breathes in sharply at the sight of him. Then she’s stepping forward, folding Eddie into a soft embrace, pulling his head down cheek to cheek with hers. Buck drags his eyes away from his living, breathing, living friend to find Chris, who’s lying on the couch with his glasses askew, mouth open in sleep. Buck’s heart clenches like a fist. He’s going to remember Chris’s haunted, horrified expression for the rest of his life, the light dying in Chris’s eyes as Buck had to tell him… had to tell him that his dad wasn’t coming home that night.

Buck walks over to Chris and kneels down beside him. He’s pretty sure it’s the first time Chris has slept since he heard about it. The first time in more than 48 hours that the kid’s closed his eyes. Buck brushes the curls back from Chris’s forehead, trying to be gentle, not wanting to wake him.

Eddie gets down next to Buck, their knees pressing together. Buck feels the shudder that runs down Eddie’s spine, feels it echoed in his soul. Buck isn’t the religious type, but he feels like this is another miracle. Years after his first brush with death, Eddie coming home once again to his son.

With a hand on Chris’s shoulder, Eddie murmurs, “hey, my little Superman. Chris, I’m here.”

Chris’s eyes open slowly, reluctantly, until he sees his dad’s face and wakes up all at once.

“Dad!” Chris shouts, hands flying up to attach themselves to Eddie’s face. “Dad!”

Eddie’s smiling, huffing out laughter in pure, unadulterated joy at seeing his son’s delighted expression. Chris is grinning and whooping, falling forward to curl himself into his dad’s chest. Eddie lifts one arm to hold Chris close and buries his face in Chris’s hair.

Buck blinks back tears, feeling relief crash over him. He rubs his eyes and starts to get to his feet, wanting to give the Diaz boys some space, until he feels a tug on his shirt. Eddie’s hand twists in the fabric. He’s not even looking at Buck, head tucked against the curve of Chris’s skull. Buck sinks back down and tentatively puts his arms around the both of them, Chris’s knobbly spine and Eddie’s strong back, his cheek brushing Eddie’s forehead. Buck lets out a breath that trembles like an earthquake.

It feels like home. It feels impossible. It’s what he’s always wanted. It feels like something Buck isn’t allowed to have.

When they finally let go of each other, what could be a minute or a year later, Buck notices Carla standing at the end of the couch. She’s smiling fondly at all of them, and Buck realizes abruptly that this is the first time he’s seen her since the pandemic started. He gets up—although it’d be more fair to say he tears himself away—and moves toward her, and there’s always been something magic about Carla because she takes one look at him and she knows.

“I missed you,” Buck says, his nose smashed into her chin. She’s hugging him like she’s trying to pack Buck down tight and snug him into a little box where she can keep him safe. Or maybe that’s just Buck’s wishful thinking. He’s so goddamn tired.

“I missed you too, Buckaroo,” Carla says, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Buck swallows the lump in his throat her tenderness causes.

She pulls away and very gently pats his cheek, looking Buck in the eye. “He needs you, you hear?” She whispers, holding that eye contact like she’s bet money on a staring competition. “Take care of each other.”

Buck can only nod.

She lets go of him and Buck shakes himself into standing straight, even though he’d much rather crumple to the floor. But he needs to get Eddie and Chris to bed, he needs to figure out what’s still edible in the kitchen and take out the trash, he needs to call the pharmacy for Eddie’s meds and the station for Eddie’s med leave, he needs to—

“Alright boys, get some rest.” Buck blinks and Carla comes back into focus. She’s addressing all of them, voice firm. “I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow to help out.”

“Thank you, Carla,” Eddie says.

“No need for that.” She bends down to give Eddie a quick hug, and Buck hears her tell him, “just try not to get on the bad side of any more sniper-rifle-wielding nut jobs, alright?”

Eddie’s reply is somewhere between a laugh and a choked-back sob.

Buck walks Carla to the door. Before she leaves, she looks at him, sharp-eyed and commanding again. “You call me if you need anything. Anything. You look just as bad as he does.”

“I’ll be fine. Thanks, Carla.”

She narrows her eyes at him, but this is what Buck has always been best at. He wades through the hurt and the pain and just keeps going. He gives her a tight smile, reminds himself that he wasn’t the one shot (no, just the one sprayed with Eddie’s blood, he can still feel it on his skin, still taste it on his lips), and closes the door behind her.

Getting Chris and Eddie to bed is easy. Buck lifts Chris up, carries him to Eddie’s room, and pulls the covers over both the Diaz boys. Eddie tries to catch Buck’s eye while Buck leaves the room, but if Buck stops moving then he’s not sure when or if he’ll start again. Buck pulls the bedroom door most of the way closed, leaving a tiny crack in case Eddie or Chris need him in the night.

In the kitchen, the clock on the stove informs him that it’s just past 9 pm. It’s jarringly early. It feels like time doesn’t really exist, that he’s been moving in a place defined by the hours since Eddie dropped, the hours since Eddie went into surgery, the hours since Eddie woke up.

Buck opens the fridge and looks into it without seeing anything, like when you’re reading only to realize that three pages have gone by without you remembering a single word. He closes the fridge door and opens it again, and oh, there’s the carton of milk and bottle of ketchup on the top shelf, the egg carton down to its last egg, a container of left-over fried rice from… was it yesterday? Buck folds back the top flap and sniffs it, decides it will be fine for one of the boys to eat when they get up.

He closes the fridge and investigates the pantry next. Two boxes of spaghetti, a can of beans, three cans of chicken noodle soup, an unopened bag of quinoa that is probably the result of Ana because Buck’s not sure Eddie has ever heard of quinoa—like he’s taking inventory of the truck. Thermal blankets, C-spine collar kit, 3L of sterile water, 3L sodium chloride, hug-a-bear. The 118 has a blue elephant courtesy of Athena. Buck could honestly really use it right now.

Buck runs a hand through his hair and pulls out his phone, planning to make a grocery list. He sees two missed calls from Bobby and eight from Maddie. One from Chim. Hen texted him at 4pm: How you holding up?

Buck very slowly puts the phone down.

He takes a step back and grips the edge of the kitchen counter. Breathe, Buck, he thinks. Just breathe.

His vision is spotty when he opens his eyes, like he’d shut them too tight. He doesn’t remember shutting them. It doesn’t matter. Buck finds a scrap of paper in the recycling bin and a pen from the junk drawer and writes a list. It’s late, so he’ll go to the grocery store in the morning, early, make sure breakfast is on the table for when Eddie and Chris get up. Oh fuck, does he have a shift tomorrow? What day is it?

Buck puts down the pen and presses the heels of his palms to his eyes. He can’t do this. He can’t stand here and pretend like he can take care of Eddie because he can’t stop seeing Eddie die. It’s in the back of his head every moment, it’s what he sees every time he closes his eyes, it’s the memory rewritten by his cells as they multiply and decay, it’s in his fucking genome now or whatever they call it—

it’s in the air he breathes, the reminder that for a moment that lasted an eternity, Eddie’s heart had stopped beating.

It’s a loud silence. Deafening.

Buck thinks, take a breath before you pass out, idiot.

Buck thinks, get a glass of water and pull yourself together.

Buck thinks, your best friend just got shot, you don’t have time for this bullshit.

Buck peels his hands away from the counter slowly, carefully, like if he makes one wrong move he’ll come away with flayed palms. He pours himself a glass of water and makes himself drink the whole thing. He picks up the list he wrote and reads it over and over and over. He thinks: what do I know is true? I’m standing in Eddie’s kitchen. I’m alive. Eddie is alive. And: I should get carrots.

Buck hiccups. Carrots—fucking—

No. Get it together. DAMN IT, Buck!

Buck bites the inside of his cheek until it bleeds and does not add carrots to the grocery list. Because apparently they cause emotional breakdowns, and Buck can’t afford one.

He puts himself to work. He ties the trash bag and then he wipes down the counters, and then he unties the trash bag to throw some paper towels in. He transfers the dishes from the sink to the dishwasher, quiet as he can, and locates a broom at the back of Eddie’s hall closet to sweep the floor.

When he’s emptying the dust pan into the trash (he’d tied and untied the bag again, but nobody’s counting, so what does it matter), Eddie says: “Are you OK?”

Buck jumps at least three feet in the air. He’s got the quads for it.

“Hey!” Buck whisper-shouts, turning to face Eddie. “What are you doing up?”

“Was wondering where you were.”

“Uh,” Buck looks around at the spotless kitchen and the broom in his hand. “Just, you know. Thought I’d be of service.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “Buck, the last thing I’m worried about is the state of my kitchen.”

“Right. That’s why I’m taking care of it. You know, so you don’t uh. You don’t have to.”

“OK.” Eddie squints at him like maybe a closer look will explain why Buck is sweeping his kitchen at 9:45pm three days after he got shot in the street in broad daylight. Buck sincerely hopes he doesn’t figure it out. He leans the broom against the counter and clips the dust pan to it in a rare display of tidiness. The pan slides down the broom handle until it hits the floor.

“When’s the last time you slept?”

Buck shrugs.

“Answer, please.”

God, what a dad.

(Not that Buck would know.)

“Uh… I think I got a few hours while you were in surgery.”

“That was two days ago, Buck,” Eddie says, frowning at him. “You look like a stiff breeze could knock you over.”

“Well, we’re inside.”

“Why are you being so stubborn? You need to sleep.”

“I’m just not really feeling it,” Buck says, folding his arms and resting his hip against the counter.

“Not giving you a choice,” Eddie says, looking extra grumpy because he can’t fold his arms. Unless you count the one in a sling as folded.

“I’m fine, Eddie. Don’t worry about me. You should be with Christopher.”

Eddie lifts his hand to his face and rubs his temples.

“Buck,” he says, “the only thing I need you to do right now is come to bed.”

“But I—“

“Come to bed, Buck.”

And it’s the repetition. It’s the look in Eddie’s eyes like a slow, early flame: the promise of a fire.

Buck’s throat is very, very dry.

“I… yeah. OK.”

Eddie gives him a small smile. Buck’s reeling. Because here’s the thing—they’ve shared a bed before. They’ve shared a too-small bunk at the station and a backseat and even a beanbag once (courtesy of a very poor decision on Buck’s part, but at least Chris likes it). But it’s always been “just bros.” It’s always been necessity. It’s been about efficiency and familiarity. Which maybe Buck is reading this all wrong and snuggling up with your best friend and his son after a near-death experience is totally no homo but… come to bed. Come to bed. Like it’s their bed. Like Buck belongs there.

Buck’s ears are ringing while he follows Eddie down the hallway to his bedroom. Their bedroom? He’s losing it.

The hallway light illuminates a strip of the room as they step inside. Buck can see Chris tucked in the sheets, curled into the rumpled spot where Eddie slid out to fetch Buck. This has to mean something, right? They’ve been dancing around and on the edge of something for so long, Buck doesn’t know how to interpret anything anymore. He loves Eddie, though. And probably the only way he’ll sleep right now is if Eddie’s in arm’s reach. So it doesn’t really matter what this is, because Buck will take any scrap of Eddie he can get, not just tonight, but always.

Eddie slips into the bed and scoots forward, leaving a space behind for Buck. Chris makes a heavy, sleepy sound and turns his head into his dad’s shoulder. Carefully, so, so carefully, Buck lowers himself onto the bed and fills the space Eddie made for him.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks, exasperated.

Buck blinks at the ceiling. “What?”

“Idiot,” Eddie mutters. “Spoon me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Buck, this bed is small enough as it is with one person. I know you’re hanging half off it right now.”

“You’re not even looking at me.”

“Call it intuition,” Eddie says, dry as the desert.

Buck gingerly turns on his side, his chest just a breath away from Eddie’s back. “I…” He swallows. “Where should I put my arm?”

“Buck, you must have done this before.”

“That’s your bad arm, Eds.”

Eddie shifts a little, his calf coming into contact with Buck’s shin. Buck breaks into a cold sweat.

“Shit, well… under the sling, then. Around my waist?”

Dry, dry, his throat is so dry.

Buck lifts his arm up and drapes it over Eddie’s waist. He shuffles in closer, pressing them together from head to toe. His nose is in Eddie’s hair, his dick is nestled in the curve of Eddie’s ass, his ankles are knocking into Eddie’s. Buck feels like he might reverberate out of his skin.

“You sure you wouldn’t rather have Ana here?” Buck whispers. His mouth is like, one inch from Eddie’s ear.

Eddie turns his head a little, so his ear actually brushes Buck’s lip. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Eddie says, “There’s no one in this world I want here more than you.”

Buck stutters on his next breath.

“I wish it’d been me,” he says, suddenly. Eddie has to know. Eddie probably already knows. Buck’s grateful, so goddamn grateful, that Eddie survived. And sure, part of it is that self-deprecating shit he’s been working through with this therapist: Eddie has more to live for, Eddie has a kid, Eddie is a better man than I’ll ever be. But mostly, it’s far simpler than that.

If Eddie had died, the sniper may as well have shot Buck too. Because Buck doesn’t know how to live without Eddie. He’d found that out ages ago, when he lost Eddie under fifty feet of mud and water.

Eddie’s next words are nearly a growl. “The only good thing to come out of all this,” he says, “is that you didn’t get hurt.”

“What are you—“

“After it happened, when I was… when I was lying there, I—I looked at you. I looked at you, Buck, and I was terrified. Not because I might die, but because if I did, who was going to protect you? Who was going to keep a sniper off your self-sacrificing, heroic ass, and make sure someone came home to Chris? Who was—“ Eddie cut himself off with a sigh. “I was worried about you.”

Buck feels like… like an unbroken, empty tundra. Like a fried electric socket. Like someone dropped him to the very bottom of a very deep well.

“Eddie, Eddie I—“

“Shh,” Eddie murmurs, as Buck shakes apart. As he bends his head to hide his tears in the nape of Eddie’s neck. As he bites his tongue to stay quiet and not wake Chris up. Eddie presses backward into Buck’s hold. “I know, I know.”

“I can’t lose you,” Buck grits out between several halting breaths.

“You won’t,” Eddie says.

“I almost did.”

“You had my back.” Buck’s throat makes an awful, wheezing sound as he fights a losing battle against crying. “You got me out of there. You saved me.”

“I love you,” Buck says, losing the fight against that too.

“Buck… I…” Eddie sounds like someone knocked the wind out of him.

“Sorry,” Buck hurries to say, chest icing over with panic. “Sorry I just—“

“I love you,” Eddie interrupts. “I do. I know it took me a long time to realize, but… I’ve been in love with you, Buck.”

“Oh my god,” Buck says. I mean, what else do you say to that? No wonder Eddie froze up. Buck is in shock. “Is this real?”

“I hope so,” Eddie says. “And if it isn’t, then I’ll just have to tell you when we wake up.”

Buck feels fit to burst with more emotions than he can name. Relief, joy, fear, disbelief, pin-prickly. It feels like another miracle.

“Deal,” Buck says. And places a kiss to the fatal, devastating spot behind Eddie’s ear.

Eddie is the first thing Buck sees when he wakes up. “Good morning” are the first words he hears.

And then:

“Just so you know, I love you.”

[7fckingidiots]

Would you be alright with writing some HCs about the brothers and a MC who's a trans guy? Sorry if it's a tall order or too vague, they're a big comfort for me and I'd like to see what ideas you have bcs your headcanons are fantastic ;w;

HELL YEAH DUDE!!!! IM ALSO TRANS!!! AH!!!!! demigirl rights :3 but i also find a huge comfort in the boys and i hc all of them as trans because no one can Stop Me •• but i really hope you enjoy these and remember you’re valid and i care u so much! Also i hope you don’t mind but i kinda made it gender neutral so every trans folk could enjoy!

The Brothers With A Trans MC

Lucifer

He didn’t know until you came out to him honestly. He knew all his other siblings were trans but with all the work Diavolo gave him and adding new students from different realms on top of that he hadn’t really had time to notice any minor changes in you.

He feels guilty about this and immediately makes sure(like everyone else)to ask for your pronouns, name, and how you would like to present yourself from now on.

Fixes your ID cards and your papers with Diavolo right after dinner

God. He’s such a dad and he gets you things that have your new name on them. You wake up to see you have a new pencil case with your name embroidered on it with matching pencils. God.....he’s so weird i love him so much

Asmo does most of your clothing shopping but for formal wear he takes you shopping! He’s not about to buy you some cheap tux or gown ok it’s gonna be over 2000 grim and he’s gonna get you three of them STOP HIM

He’s not the best with verbal affection so he writes down notes that are like “you looked very handsome/pretty today.” or when he first starts writing them they’re like “you’re a boy/girl/kid. i’m proud of you.” Thank u mr morningstar

You want surgery or to start hormones??? He will stop all his work with Diavolo and spend forever looking up things for you, he wants you to be as safe as possible(pls he almost fainted after he realized you’d have to give yourself a shot like everyday dhdhdhjdhd hc that demons/angels don’t have to do hormone therapy i’m so JEALOUS)

Practices saying your pronouns in his study when you first come out. He just wants to make sure you feel as safe as possible in his care(and he remembers how terrible it felt to be misgendered)

Guess what....he loves you no matter what :)

Mammon

You’re blind as hell if you couldn’t see his top scars but I respect it

King DOES slip up on your pronoun change but always immediately corrects himself. Satan has a spray bottle that he sprays Mammon with when he does it. Mammon is NOT amused but the same can’t be said for Belphie.

Gender affirming activities??? Oh yeah like robbing a bank?? That’s pretty gender neutral and trans right?? Yeah!!! Wow such a good supportive brother.

If you want you can wear the formal wear Lucifer bought you to the said bank heist. Boom trans rights

You can practice painting his nails or doing his makeup if you’re too nervous to do it on yourself first!! Dw if it’s bad he also can’t do makeup or paint nails so once you let him return the favor you’re both laughing and Asmo is distraught.

KING at dying hair he will get you whatever you need and if you want an entire different hair cut entirely he’s ON it

Very used to being Loud and Brash but if you need someone to talk to about anything really he always calms down and sits down to listen to whatever you have to say.

Lots of gendered gifts from him. This said for men??? Oh ok adds to cart. Oh pink??? For ladies??? yeah that can go in there too

You’re never gonna believe this.....But he loves you and supports you :)

Levi

He was the first one to come out to you at the house!! He was just so excited! Same hat!!!

Gets literally any video game where you can design the protag/have custom pronouns and will play games like that with you for hours

Would you like a pride flag.....for u.....He has too many.....Please take the trans flag please he has no room....he bought in bulk for a pride event and didn’t consider the consequences of his actions

Miku binder but irl. He will get if for you but unironically.....thanks King. He just likes binders with patterns and i respect IT

Dysphoria?? He gives you his hoodie bc that was his trademark dysphoria hoodie and i GUESS for you he can share............he would give u anything just ask nicely he’s sensitive

Reads any character that matches up with your gender and is like!!!!! That’s you!!!! OMG!!!! You in da IRL

Goes back and edits his tweets if they use your old name or pronouns(also has he/they in his bio. this is for nothing just makes me :D)

If you haven’t chosen your name he’s gonna suggest so many fictional characters. POV levi kin assigns you.

You listen to music together that just has Trans Vibes.....maybe u cry together but there’s no judgment!! It’s just nice :)

God it’s wild but! He loves u and thinks ur great :)

Satan

Enby Satan. That’s all :)

He’s very quite about it, he supports you! He’s just not loud like his brothers

He brings you book about gender studies and LGBTQ history that he thinks would interest you(there some of his favorite books and they’ve made him feel the most comfortable in his gender)

Gives you a name list if you haven’t named yourself yet! He cares about you and wants to make sure you have the right name that suits you

He’s the one that tells you that it’s ok if you’re still figuring it all out, learning about yourself is a very tricky process and if anyone knows that it’s Satan

Any of the brothers would kill anyone who misgendered you but with Satan that shit is ON SIGHT

Asks you how you know and what were the signs that gave it away to you, but only if you’re comfortable telling him!! He just finds everyone’s experience interesting and would like to know yours as well.

Spells for fucking DAYS Satan personally kills body dysphoria the best he can(mainly bc he’s HIGHKEY afraid of you getting surgery he hates knives so much)

Makes your comfort food for you when you’re feeling down about yourself and will read whatever you want to hear outloud to you.

!!!!!! GET THIS !!!!!! He loves YOU :0

Asmo

Fucking excited!!!! This means you two are going to buy so much clothing together and he gets to style you let’s GO

Buys you whatever you want but he will make you try it all on so be CAREFUL what u wish for.....ur gonna be there till the store closes yeah......

Paints your nails with the trans pride flag!! Also does your makeup and gives you tips on how to look more masculine or fem!!

VOICE LESSONS

He will help you lower or raise the pitch of your voice if it KILLS him. It eventually becomes like a mini class after school

Helps with internalized transphobia! Hes dealt with his fair share and knows how awful it can be and he will NOT being having you experience that as well we r practicing Self Care now

Picks apart any one who misgenders you until they’re crying he has NO fucking time for that behavior in this HOUSE

Sometimes self care is eating whatever you want and sitting in the dysphoria hoodies while watching chick flicks with Asmo

He likes dressing you up but he’s always sure to set boundaries so he never puts you into something that makes you feel uncomfortable

ALSO edits his posts and takes down anything that makes you uncomfortable!!

He loves you so much!!!!

Beel

another one to hand you The Dysphoria Hoodie and it’s very large and comfy!

he’ll help you make out a work out routine that will help you get the body you want and it makes him really happy to work out with you :)

he’s gonna hold your hand if you have to take shots and will give you puppy eyes if you don’t let him. He’s just worried!!!! He wants to help

stands behind you whenever you’re nervous about coming out to someone, he will NOT have someone making you feel bad or misgendering you

he’ll see food with trans pride colors and gives it too you, probably doesn’t even know what it is half the time but it made him think of you so he makes sure to get it for you

he doesn’t trip up on any of your new pronouns or name and makes it seem like he never even knew them. dead name???? what’s that??? a type of sauce?????

will let you vent to him whenever needed and will always make you a sundae after you’ve finished. it’s comically huge but it’s tasty and does make you feel a lot better, thanks beel

makes sure you remember to take off your binder if you’ve been wearing it for more than eight hours! and if you’ve been wearing heels to feel more fem he reminds you to take those off too and has a pair of slippers for you in his room that you can wear instead

hey! get this! He loves you so, so much :D

Belphie

you’re trans? ok kid join the club. he doesn’t make a big deal at all

are you still gonna cuddle with him and join him in his quest to make lucifer’s life difficult? yeah? ok then cool what’s ur name 

if he hears someone misgender you he waits till you’ve left the room and just kills whoever did it, dude’s unhinged what did you expect from him honestly

he’s actually really curious about any hormone therapy you’re on and likes listening to you rant about it to him. he likes seeing your face light up and it partly reminds him of lilith

calls your hormones something stupid like “oh dude, your gamer girl juice arrived.” or “hey your little man potion is here.” ...thanks belphie

will NOT let you sleep in a binder or push up bra!!! not healthy!! let ur chest breath guys 

like mammon, he gets you gendered gifts but they’re so fucking weird? you didn’t need a girls version of a collectable hot wheels set???? he got you blue lightning mcqueen sheets?????? those EXIST here????!!!!! when does he even shop......

introduces you to new people like “this is our resident boy/girl/human. they don’t do much but i think they’re cool.”

he really does care about you but he remembers when he came out he just didnt want people to make a big deal about it so he’s just doing what would have made him feel the most comfortable, but you can still see how much love he has for you when you look into his eyes

he loves you, so, so much :)

[ssa-sapphic-inactive]

( art cred: @toastchild )

queerly beloveds, we are gathered here together on this very first day of pride, for multiple reasons.

first and foremost, to remember all the ones who’ve fallen and have been a victim to homophobic hate crimes and abuse of any kind.

to young ones who are afraid to be outed at school.

to those who are still in the closet and don’t see a way out anytime soon.

to those who are struggling with their identity and who avoid labels at all cost.

to those in our transgender community who haven’t had the opportunity yet to truly feel comfortable in their own body and who can’t afford surgeries.

to our lgbt+ poc’s, who are and have had experienced both racial and homophobic prejudices, and have been called every slur in the book.

to all my non-binary folks who still get called pronouns that aren’t their preferred, and for those who are still forced into deciding between “female” or “male” on various questionnaires and informational forms.

to those who live in a household with unsupportive family members.

to all who have had religion forced onto them and struggle with feeling like they’re a living, walking sin each day.

to everyone dealing with internalized homophobia.

to my bisexual besties, who continue getting mistreated by even those in the community.

to my pansexual friends, who get made fun of for their preferences.

to my lesbians, who are still fighting the stigmas and stereotypes of “femininity”.

to my gay men who are bullied and ridiculed for not being “man enough” and who have been disowned by their fathers.

to all the gaybies out there who are just now questioning themselves.

to all those who’ve had the privilege and bravery to march at rally’s and parades.

to all those celebs who have added pressure of coming out in fear of what fans, and the media will think.

to those who are often forgotten and rarely represented or recognized.

to everyone with those letters after lgbtq+ who are hidden and stashed away behind a plus sign because our rainbow chain is just too long.

and finally, to all those out there who i wasn’t able to mention in this post...

i just want you to know that you’re all valid.

each and every one of you. no matter your gender identity, your sexual preference, your race, your background, your religion, your culture, etc. it doesn’t matter if you’ve just come to terms with yourself, or have been out for years! all of us have a special right to be proud this month!

though any day we wake up to a new day of life is a reason enough to celebrate, this month we’re not just thinking of ourselves and our own struggles. we’re all thinking of each other. and i’m thinking about all of you.

unfortunately, i currently don’t have a way to show my support to you all due to my living conditions. but in spirit, i am most certainly holding your hand, ready to join you on any rooftop of your choosing, and scream out at the top of my lungs how proud i am of you 🏳️‍🌈

[tmitransitioning]

(sorry same asker as chest scar pit) but i was under the impression that surgeons would somewhat tailor your chest to match the rest of you (not sure if i read that somewhere or just wrongly assumed). but after surgery, my chest is completely flat while the rest of me well, isnt. will my body naturally even out between my stomach and my chest, or is it best for me to try and flatten my stomach to match? i briefly looked but couldnt find an exact answer, but ill look again so feel free to ignore this if youve already posted about it.

During consult, this is generally something that clients discuss with the surgeon. When they look at photos, they frequently will look at pictures of folks that look similar to them, both in chest size and body shape, so they can get a mental image of how they might look after. Some clients wish to have "the flattest results possible" while others may wish to have results that look more in line with what would be expected on a cis guy of a similar build. This difference becomes more obvious the heavier someone is. If it's not discussed prior to surgery, a client may wake up and find that their expectations and the surgeon's assumptions aren't in alignment. THIS IS WHY IT"S VERY IMPORTANT TO DISCUSS OUTCOMES BEFORE SURGERY. (i'm sorry, op, i'm not trying to yell at you, but I'm cautioning everyone who is reading this- if you're going to have irreversible surgery on your body, be sure you know what the plan is and the expectations are for the outcome. discuss everything in detail!) Please don't think i'm shaming you, i'm really not. What happened here is that you didn't get the opportunity to have a true informed consent for your surgery. When they asked you "what procedure are we doing today" and you said "top surgery" and they said "sign here" you signed that you understood all the risks, benefits, and everything about the outcome- but your surgeon did not do their job making sure that everything was in order before you signed. as a medical professional, i am sorry about that. Here's the bad part: if they took too much tissue that this part is flatter than the rest of you, it's not going to even out significantly, at least not any time in the next 10 years. (yes, every cell in our bodies are replaced eventually, so with fat redistribution there's a chance it could somewhat even out after a couple decades, but most likely, it'll still be similar to how it stands today). If it's reasonable and healthy for you, it would be likely you would look more balanced at a lower weight, but i am specifically NOT advocating for you to lose weight to look more attractive (just that if you have a very small amount of sub cutaneous fat under your chest skin and a larger amount under your abdomen, losing some of that would even things out). That's your call. Stay healthy. mod mayhem

[godtier1]

let's go with Misfit and/or Armor for DinCobb :3

Thank you Niki!! I’ve cross-posted this to ao3 as well cause I *really* wanted to bring us to 600 fics ehehehehe

Prompts are: “falling in and out of a restless sleep. Feeling safe when a loved one presses a kiss to their forehead and strokes their hair.”

And

“getting out of bed too soon, insisting they feel much better, and collapsing/passing out”

Din was between bounties, hurtling through space on hyperdrive, when the call from Cobb came in. He was lightly dozing when he was woken up with the sound of beeping coming from up above. He shot up in his bunk, hitting his head on the top, before cursing loudly and slowly making his way to the cockpit. Whoever was calling couldn’t be important enough to make him hurry.

“Hello Cobb,” he said, sounding slightly out of breath. He could hear Cobb laughing, and his visage on the other end had his hands on his hips.

“Howdy. Didn’t think you were going to answer,” Cobb replied, sounding rather amused. “I didn’t wake you, did I? I didn’t know where you’d be, so I wasn’t sure what time of day it would be for you.”

Din straightened his stance and cleared his throat.

“You, um, didn’t wake me, don’t worry,” he said. Then he could feel his face grow hot as he continued, “I was actually planning to swing by Tatooine soon, if you’d be up for a visit.” Cobb’s crooked grin faltered at that.

“Ah, actually, I was kind of hoping you might be available even sooner. Like, the day after tomorrow soon.” Din could tell from the holocall that Cobb was shifting back and forth from foot to foot. It had been a while he’d seen his friend seem so worried. He checked his coordinates and what time it was currently on Tatooine.

“If I left now I could probably be in Mos Pelgo by sunrise the day after tomorrow.” Din thought for a moment before commenting. “Are you… are you okay?”

Cobb just sighed, running a hand over his face.

“Yeah I’m alright.” He laughed nervously. At Din’s concerned stare, he continued.

“I finally found someone here on Tatooine who would be willing to take the tracking chip out of my head. I’ve been trying to find someone for years who would do it, and this is the first time I’ve had any luck.”

Din let out a soft gasp at that. He knew Cobb had been a slave in his youth, had seen his brand on more than one occasion, but hadn’t stopped to consider the possibility that he would still be chipped.

“That’s fantastic Cobb!” Din exclaimed, feeling truly ecstatic for his friend. “What can I do to help? You said you need me there?”

“That’s… yeah, so here’s the thing,” Cobb began, a weary look on his face. “There ain’t a lot of docs on Tatooine that will take out a slaver’s chip, right? You can get in a lotta trouble doing that. But on the flip side, if someone were to pose as a doctor and offered to take a chip out…”

Din sucked in a harsh breath.

“They could leave the chip in and sell you back into slavery.”

“Bingo,” Cobb replied with a tired sigh. “That’s why I need someone I know I can trust to see me through this. I hate to impose Din, I really do…”

“I’m setting a course for Tatooine as we speak. Where are you getting the procedure done?”

Cobb laughed, sounding optimistic for the first time during this conversation.

“Mos Eisley. I really do appreciate you, you know that right?”

Din blushed again, feeling too hot under his helmet.

“It’s not a problem. I’ll see you soon?”

Cobb gave Din a little wave.

“See ya soon friend. Safe travels, as always.”

————————————————————————-

When Din spotted Cobb outside hangar 3-5, he could feel his heart do a little flip against his ribcage, which was a more common occurrence the longer he’d known the man. He waved in greeting, expecting Cobb to smile and eagerly approach him. Such was the song and dance Din had grown accustomed to. However, Cobb just looked around himself nervously before walking quickly to Din’s side.

“Hey Din,” he said quietly, looking rather pale. “Alright, here’s the deal. My procedure is in an hour, in the seedy district in the center of town. I’ve requested that they let you be present for it, which is awful, I know, I’m sorry. I promise, you won’t have to watch, you’ll just need to be sure they don’t take me while I’m under. Once I’m awake, I should be able to get myself back home.”

Din paused for a moment, taking in all of Cobb’s words, before hesitantly putting a sturdy hand on his shoulder. Cobb jumped slightly at the touch.

“Alright, I can do that. Though I’m not about to let you go home by yourself, you know that right?”

Cobb sighed.

“You sure? I know how busy you are, I hate to intrude more than I already have.”

Din shook his head in fond exasperation.

“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll worry half to death if I don’t go with you.”

Cobb grinned sheepishly, before offering Din his arm.

“Shall we?”

————————————————————————

Cobb had been all too right when he had called their destination the seedy part of town. There were suspicious folks around every corner, hoods up or masks on, concealing their faces. Cobb lightly tugged on Din’s arm and led him to a non-descript looking building.

Once inside, things moved very quickly. Before Din knew it, Cobb was lying on his back on a makeshift gurney, the doctor and her assistants prepping him for surgery. Luckily Din was not a squeamish man, so he wasn’t worried about feeling faint during the operation, but when he saw the medical assistants strap Cobb to the gurney and place a piece of leather in his mouth, he began to panic.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” he asked, alarm seeping into his voice. The assistants paused in their task, before the doctor shooed them back to work. She turned to Din.

“Standard procedure, surely you understand? We can’t have him flailing all over the place while we’re trying to work.”

It was at that moment that Din realized they would be operating without anesthesia, and his stomach dropped into his boots. He chanced a glance down at Cobb, who was just as frazzled. He was already sweating profusely. Din stood by the gurney and dabbed at Cobb’s forehead with his cape. Cobb leaned into the touch with a shaky sigh.

“It shouldn’t take long, right? That’s what you said? So just hang in there, I’ve got your back.”

Cobb nodded, and Din slowly offered him his hand. He gripped it like a lifeline.

———————————————————————-

The procedure was quick, barely fifteen minutes, but it was the longest fifteen minutes of his life. Din stood by the whole time, far enough to be out of the doctor’s way, but close enough to keep holding Cobb’s hand. Cobb let out muffled scream after muffled scream, squeezing Din’s hand hard enough to bruise.

When the doctor held the bloody tracking chip aloft, Din could cry from relief. He knew how much this meant to Cobb, so by extension, it meant the world to him too.

Once Cobb’s head was stitched and bandaged, the medical assistants immediately hoisted him up to standing. Din was at his side at once, protesting the decision to have him up and about so quickly.

“Sorry,” the doctor replied, “we don’t have a recovery room here, and I have another patient soon. You’ll have to find somewhere else for him to recuperate.”

Cobb leaned heavily against Din’s armor, his knees slowly buckling under him as he breathed heavily and tried to stay upright. Din wrapped a hand securely around Cobb’s back to steady him as he glared daggers at the doctor through his T-visor.

As they walked back into the oppressive Tatooine heat, Cobb staggered along at Din’s side, barely conscious. Din gave him a quick squeeze.

“I’ll find us a hotel room for the night, alright?”

Cobb shook his head, then seemed to regret it as he winced at the sudden movement.

“I’m fine Din. I just want to go home.”

Din raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“You’re in no condition to travel, Cobb, and it’s a long ride back to Mos Pelgo.”

Cobb brought a shaking hand to his mouth for a moment, looking rather sick, before swallowing thickly and slouching back against Din.

“Please. Just take me home.”

————————————————————————

By the time the pair reached Cobb’s home the dual suns had long since set, leaving Mos Pelgo bathed in the dim lights from the sparse dwellings around them.

Cobb had passed out miles back, leaving Din to grip him tightly in front of him on the speeder to keep him from falling. He carried Cobb bridal style into his home, where he gently deposited him on his bed. Din quickly removed his armor, sans helmet, before joining Cobb under the covers. Cobb blearily opened his eyes, a low whine escaping his throat, before he closed his eyes and went back under once more.

Din sighed as he laid on his side, facing Cobb in the dark. It wouldn’t be the first or last time they would share a bed like this. Each subsequent time they did this, one of them always grew a step bolder. A hand on a bicep. A pair of legs tangled with the other’s. Cobb’s forehead against Din’s helmet.

Tonight Din grew even bolder still. Once he was sure Cobb was really asleep, he gripped the lip of his helmet and pulled, fresh air chilling his face. He looked down at his sleeping companion, through his own eyes for the first time, and smiled as he carefully brushed a strand of hair away from Cobb’s angular face. He battled with himself for just a moment before leaning down and sweeping his lips against Cobb’s forehead, mindful of the bandages covering his left temple.

He could practically feel Cobb smiling.

——————————————————————-

“What are you doing up?” Din asked in alarm as he entered the bedroom the next afternoon, cup of soup and glass of water in hand.

Cobb was standing shakily by the bed, grasping tightly to the dresser to stay upright. He slowly raised his head and smiled weakly up at Din. His strength might have been gone, but his charm was certainly not.

“Howdy Din,” he rasped as he let go of the dresser, only to sway alarmingly and clutch on to it again. If Din hadn’t been so deeply worried, he might have chuckled at the similarity to Grogu when he stumbled around.

“Cobb,” he warned as he put his food on the dresser. “You shouldn’t be up and about. For kriff’s sake, you just had surgery less than twenty four hours ago.” Cobb just waved him off nonchalantly.

“M’fine, I have things to do. Gotta stop in at Werlo’s, gotta check on the vaporators, gotta…”

Then his eyes were rolling back in his head and he was pitching forward, and Din just barely reacted quickly enough to prevent him from hitting the ground.

———————————————————————-

Despite the circumstances of the surgery, Cobb’s recovery was swift. He was just as stubborn as Din had expected him to be, insisting on changing his own bandages and making his own meals. Din just rolled his eyes and let him do what he wanted, hovering by closely just in case he needed a steadying arm.

When Cobb took off the bandages at last, a prominent scar resided on his left temple. He would wear it proudly for the rest of his life.

Then when Din was sure Cobb was finally healed well enough to hold a blaster, he held out the still bloody tracking chip to him. Cobb stared at it for a moment, looking surprised, before his lips turned up in a wide grin.

“How far do you reckon I would need to blast this thing to kingdom come?”

[zaerog-infinity]

Posting this here, because my FR sideblog has the best chance of this being seen. Sorry, friends, that just wanted to look at some nice dragons and relax.

Howdy fellas. One of my dachshunds, Belle, is gonna need out-of-state back surgery for one of her discs this Saturday, the 16th of January. I don’t wanna e-beg, I wanna work for my funds; so, I’m making this post to bring a little attention to my commission shop. More under the cut, I don’t wanna bother folks with a big ol’ scrollbar cruiser.

Also: Link to the comm shop is in the replies, if you wanna hop straight to that. Thanks :]

I’ll start with the beginning, hopefully give some validity to my situation for the skeptics.

The night before last, as Belle was ready to go to bed with my grandparents (as she does each night), my pawpaw noticed she wasn’t as ecstatic about the ordeal as she usually is. Typically, she bolts right up the steps, crazy about gettin’ to sleep with her two favourite people. But, this time, she only slooowly escalated them, only going up a couple steps at a time before stopping to rest, and this repeated until she reached the top.

The next day, my grandparents wake up to find that she had done her, uh... unsanitary business on their bed, which had never, ever happened before--not even when she was little. She continued the string of sluggish behavior on an hour or two later, seemingly physically unable to do her normal, excited movements throughout. My grandmother called the vet and scheduled an appointment with our local vet for 2 PM yesterday afternoon.

In our appointment, the doctor diagnosed her with a herniated disc, causing said disc to flare up and press against her spinal cord, causing neurological reflex loss in the back half of her body--a common issue in the breed, but awful, nonetheless--that, if untreated, will lead to eventual paralysis from that point downwards. She was left at the vet under the doc’s orders to be examined while she was prescribed prednisolone, an anti-inflammatory drug. The plan was to keep her there until Monday, the 18th, and if she was doing better, she’d be sent home with the remainder of her prescription. Else, we would receive a call from the vet saying she needed surgery, stat, because her condition was worsening.

Less than 24 hours later, at ~1:30PM today, we receive a call from the vet saying that Belle had been, in fact, doing worse. The medication was not helping her situation at all. She needs surgery as soon as possible. The closest place that can perform the procedure for us is in Memphis, TN, and can potentially cost “thousands of dollars”, the doc tells us. The problem? Besides the glaring upcoming bill, weekdays, this clinic’s hours are 6PM-8PM. Dark, lost, and in Memphis? Doesn’t sound like the best scenario, according to my grandparents. However, on weekends, they offer 24-hour services. My grandparents set her visit up for Saturday, the 16th. She is now home with us, until then, under strict confinement in her kennel to prevent her condition from worsening, doctor’s orders. She was sent home with the rest of her prednisolone and another, separate prescription of gabapentin, a drug usually taken to hold back epilepsy, but can also be taken to reduce nerve pain.

Now then, with that all out of the way: If you’ve reached this point, certainly you’ve seen the up-and-coming price tag associated with her procedure. I’m hoping we have enough in our savings to cover it, but due to recent utility repairs and general broke-ness during this hellish time period, I want to prepare for the worst. I won’t ask you for free handouts, but if you have the green to spare, I’ll be linking my commission shop on FR in the replies, since Tumblr will purge me from the timeline if I post it here. It would really, really help us out a lot. And, hey, even if you’re like me, rock-bottom-wallet-style? A boost will do just fine and will greatly help broaden my audience.

If you’re not on FR and still want to financially help, PM me at any time, and we can work it through there!

Thank you so much to everyone for reading, sharing, everything. You keep doin’ you ‘n bein’ cool :]

Have a picture of my sweet baby girl I took about an hour ago!

[transannabeth]

i just saw your trans annabeth ask and i wanna ask!! what about trans percy? i kinda love the idea of them both being trans

YES i also love trans percy!!! 

trans annabeth headcanons (a few are referenced in this post!) 

there’s this really awesome post about percy being trans (link) by @ehlihr but i’m also gonna do some of my own headcanons because i can 

i’m not sure when he figures out that he’s trans but it’s at least several years before tlt happens 

sally of COURSE is super supportive and helps him choose his name

then she immediately starts saving up so they can change his name legally 

gabe is, predictably, less supportive

one of the reasons that percy specifically goes to a lot of boarding schools is because it gets him out of the apartment and away from gabe (the balance between gabe’s stink helping and not helping is one that sally spends a long time figuring out) 

him being trans definitely doesn’t help the fact that he has problems at school, because people suck 

his record + needing to find trans friendly schools is difficult and sometimes percy feels bad about making things so hard for sally 

(he brings it up once and she hugs him and tells him she would do anything for him, regardless of the cost and then they bake cookies) 

sally is the best when it comes to bad dysphoria days. percy doesn’t like to talk a lot during them (he’s got pretty bad dysphoria when it comes to his voice, especially as and after he goes through puberty) but sally always knows how to help, whether that means giving him space or extra hugs and affirmation. usually it involves blue food

when percy arrives at chb, chiron and grover know he’s trans, but no one else and percy doesn’t bring it up because adjusting and mourning his mom is hard enough without also coming out

during their first quest, percy asks annabeth what people do during quests if they get their period because he hasn’t gotten his yet and he’s lowkey kinda stressed about it 

(everything else in his life has fallen apart, he frankly would not be surprised if This was when he got his first one cause that’s just how it is right now) 

and he forgot to ask someone before they left camp, which was partly because he forgot and partly because he didn’t want to have that conversation. and annabeth gives him this blank look and says “i don’t know, i’m trans” and percy blinks a few times and is like. “you’re trans? i’m trans” 

solidarity

(he doesn’t get his period on that quest. it does happen on a future quest, but that time he’s prepared and has some advice from the few period having campers who have gone on quests) 

after they get back from the first quest, percy gets pulled into the group of lgbt+ campers and it’s his first time being surrounded by so many people who Get Him in so many different ways and it’s really nice

periods aren’t the worst for him, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good time. he either spends a lot of that time in baggy hoodies or underwater. either way, he likes alone time unless the person he’s with his sally, grover, or annabeth 

he gets his first binder when he’s 14, but rarely wears it at camp because of the intense amount of exercise and training they do (bind safe folks!)

(this makes me think about magical binders that you could safely wear for longer periods of time and without worrying about the intensity of the exercise...for our consideration) 

when he is wearing a binder, the people around him are always making sure that he’s not pushing it

if they aren’t at camp, annabeth has been known to set an alarm for when she has to text percy to make sure he’s taken his binder off and stretched

one of his favorite things about armor is that it gives him No Shape 

the protection part is good too

percy also doesn’t like swimsuits. trunks are fine but even once he has a binder that he can swim in he’s not a huge fan, but since he has poseidon powers, it’s never a problem

like annabeth, he finds a kind of validation in monsters angrily calling him the son of poseidon before trying to kill him 

even getting turned into a guinea pig isn’t the worst cause it’s like yeah they turned me into a guinea pig but they also see me as a boy you know? 

i like to think that monsters and bad guys in pjo are like ‘yeah i want to kill this demigod but disrespecting their gender? that’s a line i won’t cross’ 

i think??? because of the timing of the quest percy misses what would’ve been his first pride at chb, but he definitely goes with the group every year that he’s around and not saving the world

poseidon is super supportive, which kind of catches percy off guard

at the end of their first meeting, when he says that percy’s a true son of the sea god... it has Layers 

like he wakes up in the poseidon cabin and there’s a big trans flag hanging on the wall and percy’s like dad you’re really extra ...but thank you

i think growing up percy probably resigned himself to the fact that things like top surgery and hormones weren’t going to be in his future, but between sally becoming a successful author with a higher income and the whole gods and magic thing, it becomes a reality that he didn’t really let himself consider before

and it’s kind of exciting to have scars that he wants for once

[theantitote]

A Call to Action + A Few Resources for These Times of Unrest in the US

On the Recent Unrest and Our Worst Fears (Is a civil war brewing?)

These times are uncertain, dire even. A mismanaged pandemic has and will continue to claim many lives and ravage our economy, yet several Republican governors still stand poised to reopen schools in the fall, and economic woes potentially put millions at risk of falling victim to mass evictions. Police and government brutality has long plagued our nation with near impunity and in the wake of George Floyd’s death and the violent crackdowns on protests, we seem to be reaching a breaking point. Police have been seen on numerous occasions assaulting the media, and federal agents sent to Portland, Oregon have been responsible for among other things, shooting Donavan La Bella in the head with “less lethal” impact munitions, cracking his skull and nearly killing him, arresting protesters into unmarked rental vans, and striking a Navy vet with a baton after he attempted to confront them on their oath to the constitution, breaking his hand. Now as anger swells in the streets and fears rise of an apparently fledgling secret police force due to the actions of federal agents, recently threatened to be deployed to more cities as part of Trump’s Operation Legend, a question thought unthinkable just a few months ago seems to be becoming uncomfortably plausible - are we heading for a civil war?

Anyone with even the slightest bit of morality and an inkling as to what such an event would entail should be struck with terror at the mere thought of the possibility. So it is imperative in these times that we do our due diligence as citizens of this nation to learn from history and do everything in our power to deescalate such a situation before our worst fears are realized, all without loosing sight of the problems and what must be done to solve them. To this end I have compiled a fairly brief list of videos, podcasts, articles, and webpages that I recommend all Americans observe and heed the messages and warnings found therein.

Top Recommendations

Note: All podcasts link to Spotify pages however you should be able to find them elsewhere if needed, including most popular podcasting apps from my experience.

1) The Youtube channel Beau of the Fifth Column, and his recent covering of the events in Portland.

I link his playlist of videos covering Portland and how the federal response runs counter to the guidelines of their manuals because it’s most relevant however I can’t recommend his entire channel enough. For further reading, here are a few links related to what he discusses in those videos:

FM 3-24 - Insurgencies and Countering Insurgencies - FAS PDF link

Federation of American Scientists - their website hosts a sizable amount of information some of which is relevant, including the aforementioned pdf

The Rand Corporation’s website, which has more public documentation and who also plays a large role in the making of classified documents for policy makers on the subject.

The nonprofit archive.org free online library

2) It Could Happen Here - A podcast from 2019 by Robert Evans, who has a background in investigative journalism on the conflicts in Iraq and Syria and Ukraine among others, exploring the possibility of a Second American Civil War, what might cause it and how it could be prevented. Though he is rather open about his own leftist bias he does not shy away from addressing the valid grievances rural America might have with the government as well as areas where the true left of America and rural conservatives might share some surprising common ground.

3) Behind the Police - Another podcast and a recent spinoff of “Behind the Bastards” that covers the history of American policing and how it has led to the often corrupt institutions we have today. Also hosted by Robert Evans and joined by the hip-hop artist Jason Petty aka Propaganda.

A few reminders of recent state violence

Tweeted video of the moment Donavan La Bella was shot in the head by a US Marshal

Tweeted video of the immediate aftermath (CW: profuse bleeding)

An update on Donavan La Bella’s condition (CW: distressing images) - “His mother, Desiree La Bella, previously said her son’s face and skull were fractured and that he underwent facial reconstructive surgery in the hours after the encounter. She said he had a tube in his skull to drain blood and had vision problems in one eye.” - the good news is the article says he’s recovering better than doctors expected.

Tweeted video of Navy veteran Chris David being struck with a baton by federal officers, breaking his hand, dubbed by some as “Captain Portland” after the viral video showed him taking the blows unflinching

A Newsweek article with an interview with Chris David - "I want to use my 15 minutes to put out a message to my fellow vets. I also want to use my 15 minutes to try to refocus this whole discussion back to Black Lives Matter as opposed to an old white guy who got beat up because I don't think I'm worth the attention, to be perfectly frank" - He states in the interview that he sought to confront the federal agents on their oath to the constitution when the beating happened, after hearing of the seemingly random arrests using unmarked rental vans.

NowThis News compilation of police violence against journalists from June 1st

Another NowThis News compilation of more police violence against journalists from June 3rd

Vice coverage of the protests in the wake of George Floyds death, posted on June 2nd. This includes a rather emotionally intense moment when the crew is assaulted by police with pepper spray and tear gas along with a small family who were attempting to protect their local business.

What Now? A Few Words of Advice

The times ahead are uncertain and fraught of dangers to say the least, but if we wish to avoid the worst we have to act. So, what do we do? Don’t just hope but organize, strategize, plan, and fight for the best, while preparing for the worst. At the very least and most simple take the advice from Beau’s videos and make your voice heard. Demand the government start following their own manuals and stop escalating tensions even further. 

Yet distressingly enough, it seems unlikely that the onslaught of violent federal crackdowns will slow down anytime soon regardless of what we do. Preparedness seems more important now than ever, so here are a few basics. Try to get at least a month's worth of food if you haven’t already and still can. There are several sites for such things, such as Mountain House as one example, however much of this might be sold out or unaffordable so you might have to consider buying canned goods little by little as you can. Prepare a bug out bag, especially if you live in the city. There are countless tutorials and advice on this topic but try to stay focused on what you might need - things like a first aid kit, water, a filtered straw and other purification methods, a way to light a fire and cook, and so on. If you’re sane and responsible and wish to acquire a firearm for self defense if you haven’t already, and want to train but don’t want to have to involve yourself with the toxic conservative dominated gun culture, look into the SRA (Socialist Rifle Association) as they might be offering range days and training in your area. 

But most importantly, start networking and organizing. No matter what comes to pass it will be imperative that we develop close ties with those within our communities which we can call upon not only to help try to prevent the worst, but also for protection should our worst fears become a reality. You might consider joining your local IWW if you’re an advocate for democratic unionization and workplace democracy like myself, or you might look into and maybe get into touch with folks like Mutual Aid Disaster Relief, and see if there’s any local to your area or what you might be able to learn from them. Regardless, try to find some group you at least somewhat fit in with and organize with them together.

A quick final note on my blog

I started this blog spontaneously on July 3rd hoping to ease my way into amateur blogging first and hopefully a career in journalism later, however current events have left me anxious of the future and uncertain of what new tragedies might lurk around the corner of tomorrow. I am however, highly privileged. I live at home in a rural town in the South Eastern US far away from the unrest with a supportive family who have at least for the time being a fairly secure income, and am currently unemployed, meaning that while I have no income of my own at the moment I do have a lot of free time, which I plan to spend much of on my amateur blogging pursuits. So if you want to see more blog posts like this in the future, give me a follow and consider turning on notifications and you’ll certainly be seeing more posts like this from me in the days ahead.

[jbhoneydew]

My first attempt at writing something M*A*S*H related, or writing anything in years. Please message me if you have any suggestions! I might post this to AO3 later.

The 4077th is faced with another cold, winter night and BJ isn’t handling the cold-snap too well. Hawkeye is there to help him out. (2.2K words)

(References to Baby Its Cold Outside (7x10) & Mail Call (2x23) )

__________________________________________________________

“Attention all personnel! Bundle up and grab some coffee in the mess while it lasts. It’s going to be a cold one tonight, folks!”

The bitter wind whipped in the air that would send a strong shiver down one’s spine. It seemed like yesterday the camp was soaking in the rays of the warm summer sun, but those days were long gone.

Time flies when you waste your days doing meatball surgery on wounded men and boys from the front lines - hoping they’ll live to see another day.

It was now the middle of November and the 4077th mobile hospital in Uijeongbu, South Korea was faced with a premature winter storm. The forecast called for flurries, strong winds, and below freezing temperatures that were not welcomed by the unit.

It was the second winter blast of the week and supplies were now low in stock. Extra blankets were non-existent in the supply room. They were either wrapped around patients in post-op or wrapped around the personnel like mummies. Firewood was also scarce due to the last storm. This left the unit scrambling to find supplies they would need to keep themselves warm. 

The unlucky personnel would have to find other means of warmth.

____________________________________________________________

Hawkeye sprinted across the compound towards the Swamp. He just finished his evening post-op shift and Charles had finally arrived to relieve him after being 20 minutes late. Hawk was bundled up from head to toe with his arms wrapped tightly around himself to preserve body head as he ran, a few curse words escaping his lips. The cold air was biting at his exposed face and all he wanted to do was curl up next to the furnace and sleep. 

He finally made it to the Swamp and swung the door open, practically throwing himself inside. 

“Hawk, the door!” His bunk-mate BJ greeted him from his own cot, trying to shield himself away from the bitter cold wind Hawkeye let in by burrowing deeper into his blanket.

“I got it, Beej. Cool it.” he muttered as he slammed the door shut. 

“Mother Nature beat me to it.” muttered BJ as he adjusted the army-issued toque on his head. His teeth chattering in the process. The winter storm was making him miserable. He wasn’t used to the sub-zero temperatures in Korea. It was a new concept.

Before being drafted, he spent his entire life living in California and rarely had to worry about being cold. Living in Korea for the past year  reminded him that not everywhere was sunny and warm like California. He knew it would be cold - but the draft board didn’t tell him it would be this cold.

Hawk wrapped the blanket on his cot around himself and crouched down in the middle of the tent where the gas stove usually was. He raised his hands out in front of it, expecting it to warm his cold and tired body.

He raised an eyebrow when he realized no heat emitted from the unit. He then realized the gas stove was missing. 

“Don’t tell me i’m going crazy. Could’ve sworn we had a gas stove in here. ” Hawk said in confusion. 

“We did, until about 10 minutes ago. Radar took it. He said post-op needs all the gas stoves they can find to keep the patients warm.” explained BJ as he shivered in his bunk. “The last time he did it, I hid his glasses in the meat-loaf. I think i’ll hide them in the latrine this time.” 

“This is just perfect.” Hawk said sarcastically. He stood up and paced around the tent in an attempt to keep himself warm without the gas stove.

“I’m already frozen from my head down to my toes and our good friend, Chuckles, is now sitting in post-op probably bathing in the warmth of OUR gas stove. Now we’re stuck here to freeze our butts off in this flimsy tent!” Hawkeye ranted. “He could’ve at least left his ugly polar suit or gloves to keep us warm! That little-” 

Hawk stopped himself when his eyes landed on BJ for a second time, noticing something different.

“Wait a minute….Is that my sweater?” 

“Mhm.” BJ mumbled as he lifted the collar of the sweater up to keep his neck warm.

The navy blue wool sweater his dad sent him last year was currently wrapped around BJ’s semi-slim frame, the collar of the fabric peeking out from under his olive green coat.

“First you steal my socks, and now my sweater. What’s next? My pants?”

“I was cold and I found it under your cot. You can have it back if you want if you want.” BJ replied as he began to undo the top buttons of the sweater.

“No, no.” Hawk replied as he placed a hand on BJ’s shoulder. “Keep it. I’m just kidding.”

“You sure?” BJ paused. 

“Yeah...it’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes. Not just my socks this time.” 

“Good. Because it’s very warm. Tell your dad I said thanks.”

“Your regards will be in my next letter to Crabapple Cove. Dad will appreciate it.”

“You know..I wish Peg thought of sending me a sweater. Instead she sent more rum cookies instead of something warm to wear. This is Korea we’re talking about. It’s freezing.” BJ half-joked.

“Keep it, Beej. I mean it. Besides, you look really good in my sweater.” 

BJ raised an eyebrow at him. “How can you tell?” 

“Just trust me. You look good.” he winked. 

Hawk laid down on his cot, pulling the thin army-issued blanket over his body to block out the frigid air with little success. He was cold, tired, and all he wanted to do was sleep. 

Hawk turned onto his side towards BJ. He was now sitting up in his bunk, his legs pulled towards his chest with his blanket wrapped around himself. He felt sympathetic for his younger bunk mate. He knew BJ wasn’t experienced in handling cold snaps unlike himself; who grew up in Maine and experienced cold snaps like this every winter.

He watched BJ pick up his most recent letter from Peg that sat on his footlocker and read it for what seemed like the fifth time this week. 

“Can’t get enough of that letter, huh?” Hawk asked, letting out a yawn. 

“Huh? Oh yeah. Keeps my mind off the cold.” BJ replied as he shivered again. 

“What’s new in Mill Valley?”

“She says that they had six warm days in a row. In fact, it was so nice she and my parents took Erin to San Francisco for the day. It says that Erin’s favorite part of the trip was seeing the Golden Gate Bridge. It says ‘I wish you were here to see it, BJ. Her eyes lit up like she was handed the moon. It was the cutest thing i’ve seen.’ Damn. I should’ve been there to see it too. I miss the warmth of San Francisco but instead I'm here about to catch hypothermia.”

“You will be there, Beej. We’ll get out of this dump. It won’t last forever.”

“The peace talks say otherwise.”

“Listen to me.” Hawk said as he raised his head from his pillow. “I will personally march myself up to MacArthur’s doorstep to personally stop this war if I have too. Just for you. You’ll make it out of here in one piece and you’ll see your wife and kid again. You’ll be back in sunny California in no time, and then you can come visit me in Crabapple Cove anytime you wish.”

“Who says i’ll visit?” he teased. 

“Says me. It’s only been a year but we’ve been through hell and back together. This isn’t a bond that can be thrown away once this war is over and we all go home. Trapper left without saying goodbye before you showed up and I haven’t heard a word from him since. I’m not letting you do the same. Besides, how am I supposed to live without Peg’s baking? It’s to die for.” he explained. He knew he was rambling on to BJ but he didn’t care - he needed a distraction from the cold.

“It’s a deal, Hawk.” BJ smiled, placing the letter back on his footlocker. He was lucky to have met Hawkeye, even in one of the worst circumstances possible. It was the only luck he seemed to have since he was drafted.

BJ laid down on his cot again and curled up onto his side.“I have post-op in the morning, see ya then, if we survive the night.” he said as he closed his eyes.

“Night BJ, don’t let the frost-bite get ya.”

BJ grinned. “Yes mom. Goodnight, Hawk.”

____________________________________________________________________________

A particularly strong gust of wind blew against the tent, waking Hawkeye in the process. It felt like the temperature dropped another ten degrees in the matter of hours. He was about to tug his blanket over his head when he heard someone’s teeth chattering. Hawk lifted his head up and noticed BJ visibly shiver in his cot. 

“Beej? You alright?” he half-whispered to him, wondering if he was awake or not.

He didn’t get a response for a few moments until BJ popped his head out from under his blanket. 

“Yeah. Just cold. Go back to sleep.” he mumbled as his teeth chattered more.

Hawk shook his head. Sleep was now a lost cause for Hawk at this point. The cold temperature and howling wind now made it nearly impossible.

Hawk was concerned for his friend who was shivering on the other side of the tent. He knew that he was having a tough time dealing with the frigid cold. It would’ve been a lot easier if the gas stove was here, but they sacrificed it for the patients.

Suddenly, he had an idea to help both of them. 

Hawk wrapped his blanket around himself and made his way over to BJ’s cot.

“Move over, Beej.” Hawk mumbled to the younger man, who moved over as much as he could without a complaint.

Hawk settled himself half on top of BJ and wrapped his arms around the younger man, their legs becoming entangled in one another. He then threw his blanket over top both of them.

“What’re you doin’?” BJ mumbled half-asleep, his teeth chattering once again.

“You’re shivering, so I’m keeping you warm. Damn it, BJ. You’re like an icicle.”

“Mmm. And you’re like a personal body heater”

“Glad I can be useful,” he smiled. “Come here.”

Hawk pulled BJ even closer to him, if it was even possible, and rubbed his arm gently in an attempt to warm him up.

They laid in silence for a while. They eventually rolled onto their sides and had their arms wrapped tightly around each other. BJ rested his forehead against Hawkeye’s shoulder, who had his chin rested on top of BJ’s head. They both fit perfectly in eachothers arms. Hawk smiled when he noticed BJ’s shivering had died down.

“Hawk?”

“Mhm?”

“Thanks for this. Feeling warmer already.”

“No problem, Beej. I’m here for you. No matter what. We’ll get through this.” 

They both fell asleep moments later, the storm already long forgotten as they curled up in eachothers arms.

—————————————————-------------------------------------------------

“Captain Pierce! Captain Hunnicutt! You in there?”

The swamp door creaked open, allowing the morning sunlight to illuminate the tent, and Radar timidly stepped inside the tent.

“Oh good. There you are, sirs.”

He found Hawkeye and BJ cuddled up together on one cot in the back right corner of the tent. BJ was snoring softly, dead to the world. His arms were wrapped tightly around Hawkeye like an octopus and his cheek was resting against his shoulder.

“Radar? What is it?” Hawkeye suddenly asked, startling the young corporel. 

“I’m sorry sirs but Winchester told me to tell you that he wants Captain Hunnicutt in post-op right away. He’s supposed to cover for him and he’s already 10 minutes late.”

“Hmm. Five more minutes.” 

“But sir-“

“I said five more minutes, Radar. I’ll make it an order if I have too.” 

Radar stared at them with his mouth opened slightly and huffed.

“Oh boy. You’re gonna owe Winchester for this. He’s already on my back as it is and I'm not the one who's late!” 

“Go, Radar. We’ll be there soon. I’ll leave last month’s volleyball nudes under your door for you if you tell Winchester to wait a few more minutes.” Hawk smiled.

“Yes sir!” and Radar was gone seconds later.

Hawk then turned his attention back to BJ. He didn’t have the heart to wake him up. He looked so peaceful curled up in his arms and honestly - it felt nice. 

Sure, Hawk spent the night with many of the nurses on the compound and girls back in his hometown but BJ was different. There was something about another man laying against him, seeking comfort that Hawk was more than willing to provide. He realized that he liked taking care of BJ. 

Hawk ran a hand through BJ’s hair and sighed happily. He could get used to this. For the first time in his life, he wished for more wintery cold nights like this. 

[goethes-ghost]

top surgery updates

Hi there and welcome to the top surgery update nobody asked for! it’s bee two weeks now since I’ve been operated on and things are going very well! therefore I’ll update you now with some new post surgery facts. again: these must not be true for every trans man, but maybe they can give you folks some insight.

1. I’ve been stitched up with absorbable surgical threads and my bandages have been removed yesterday. everything is healing well even tho it looks kind of creepy.

2. there are some brown/red spots in my stitching - that’s normal.

3. the left side of my chest is a little bit swollen and maybe they’ll have to remove some wound fluid that is located there but maybe it’s just because I use the muscles on that side more frequently (I’m left handed) - both of it is very common and no big deal at all.

3. they had to relocate my nipples and right now they look like...and I really really have no other/better comparison...burned fried potatoes and THANK GOD that’s also very normal and will change.

4. my test results for breast cancer are negative. I was kind of surprised by that because I didn’t even know that they had send my breast tissue in for a check up but apparently that’s the normal procedure in the hospital I went to.

5. I still cant stretch my arms up very far but the days of  “t-rex reaching distance” are over. I still cant use a backpack tho and that kind of sucks. I also am still not allowed to carry medium weight to heavy stuff (5 pounds max).

6. Hell yes I’m allowed to shower so I can wash my hair and back by myself again. Hoo-fucking-ray! And I can even dress myself again (jackets are still a little bit tricky tho if they are tight).

7. I’m ITCHING, you guys. Sometimes it drives me NUTS. It can vary from subtle itching right under my skin to sudden needle like pain in one little spot. That’s also normal because of the healing process but sometimes it can become so bad that I wake up from it.

8. I still can’t sleep on my stomach but I can sleep on my side if I lean on a pillow I put beside me.

Again - if you have any questions please ask! You can really ask me anything, don’t be shy.

(19th february)

[curiousdamage]

Drabble Post ? Lost count

#94: “I Won’t Lose You Too.”

Fandom: Karate Kid - Becca-verse

Pairing: John Kreese/ Terry Silver (Platonic)

Life in the war is hard.  It’s even harder when you lose those you love.

Warning: Death mentioned.

1966

Cara read the name on the chart. Twice. She smiled as she walked over to the bed. She'd seen the picture that John kept in his pocket of a smiling boy standing next to a horse. He was older, for sure. Taller and more filled out, but those eyes were the same.

"Hi, Soldier," she said, softly, so as not to wake the other soldiers around him.

"Hi," he whispered hoarsely, putting a hand to his throat, confused.

"It's a side effect of surgery," she explained. "It's from the breathing tube we use during the procedure. The bad news is that the sore throat lasts a few days, the good news is that you're going to be fine. The doctors were able to remove all the shell fragments and fix your leg. A few weeks of taking it easy and you'll be right as rain.”

"That sounds good," he smiled, those dimples creasing his cheeks. "Too bad I had to get shot to get a break.” 

"Let me know how it works out," she returned his smile. "I might consider it. Here. Have some water." She helped him sit up and held a cup to his lips.

"Thank you, ma'am."

“Do you have a brother named, John, Private Kreese?"

"Yes, ma'am," he smiled, with pride. "He's a Green Beret." His smile faded. "Wait, he hasn't been here, has he?"

"Not in your position, no," she answered. "Some of his men were wounded. He came in to visit them a few times."

“And Johnny Ray made an impression, I see,"

"Johnny Ray?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, no," he groaned. "You didn't know that was his name, did you? He thinks 'John' makes him sound more grown-up. He always had to be more grown-up. I guess he needed a name to match."

"Get some rest, Soldier," she smiled, helping him lay down. "We'll talk more in the morning."

As soon as her shift was over, she raced to the Cobra Kai’s tent.

"Oh, hush," she replied to the groans and complaints. "I've helped operate on most of you. There's nothing here that I haven't seen before." She held out her hand. "Come with me, Johnny Ray, I have a surprise for you."

"Oooh!"

"Don't make me hurt you all," he glared around the tent, then looked at Cara. "What did you just call me?"

"Come with me, Johnny Ray," she grinned, again.

"Been reading medical charts?" he questioned.

"Just put your boots on and follow me, huh?" She rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest.

“Okay, okay. Damn, you're bossy," he said, lacing up his boots.

"Good thing you like that," she smirked. She led him over to the hospital.

He stopped short seeing the boy in the third bed. His mouth went dry and his breathing became barely discernable.

"Relax," Cara said, taking his hand. "He's going to be okay. He took some shell fragments to his leg. We were able to remove them. A few weeks in bed, some antibiotics, he will be just fine and have an awesome scar to show the girls back home."

"Will he get to go home?"

"It's not serious enough for that, unfortunately," she replied.

"Damn." He kissed the top of her head. "Thanks, Babe." He walked over to the bed and held the younger man's hand. "Hey, Twerp. Thought I told you to quit following me. You always get hurt and I always get blamed," he grinned.

"What I never understood was, if you knew I was just gonna try to follow you and get hurt, why you didn't just take me with you, to begin with?" the boy smiled as he opened his eyes. "Johnny Ray!"

For just a moment, Cara saw the boy that John had been before the Army and war had forced him to grow up too fast as the brothers grabbed each other in a hug.

"Well, the good news is, I don't think they can blame this one on you," Timmy laughed as they pulled apart.

"Oh, don't worry, they'll find a way," John smiled in return. "Damn, it's good to see you. I've missed you, kid."

----

1968

"So, where's that pretty nurse this time?" Timmy asked, lifting his beer to his lips.

"She's stateside," John replied.

"That's too bad," he lamented. "She seemed crazy about you.”

“You think?"

He nodded. "Like you didn't know that. You keep in touch?”

"Kind of have to," he smirked.

“Yeah? Why's that? You knock her up or something?”

"Well, yeah," he said, again, smirking.

"What?! No way," Timmy laughed.

"Yep," he grinned. "She traded her boots for booties.”

“You're pulling my leg again, aren't you? Trying to see what you can get your gullible baby bro to believe?"

"Not this time, Timmy," He reached for his pocket pulling out a photograph.

“Are you serious? I'm an Uncle? Get out of here!” 

"A little girl. Rebecca Anne. She's four months old now," he smiled, turning the picture around proudly.

"Damn!" He laughed, taking the photo. "Can't deny this one. She looks just like you."

"I think so, too."

"Man, you are someone's Daddy," he laughed, then pushed him playfully. "You're really a dad! How weird is that?"

John laughed, “It's pretty cool. I mean, I haven't actually seen her and I don't know when or if I ever will, but just something about…, knowing she and the hot nurse are waiting for me back home, it makes it easier to get through the days."

Tim nodded solemnly, squeezing his brother's shoulder.

"You'll make it home to your girls and if the hot nurse…,"

“Cara."

"What?"

"The hot nurse. Her name is Cara," he explained.

"Okay, if Cara still wants your stubborn ass, you two will have a whole houseful of kids. And Uncle Timmy will move in next door and teach them the important things in life. Like how to annoy you. I'll keep them hopped up on ice cream and soda. I'll be the best Uncle ever!" He looked at the picture again. “She is…, she’s beautiful, Johnny Ray.”  He sobered a bit.  “Have you told the folks?”

“I wrote them a letter,” he shrugged.  

“Oh, that should go over well,” Tim scoffed.  “You didn’t call them?”

“Like that’s an argument I want to have while having to scream ‘over’ every five words,” he retorted.  “Besides, I don’t want Dad…, being Dad about it and I’ll get pissed off and I just don’t want that.”

“Hey, it’s a grandbaby and a pretty one at that,” he shrugged.  “All parents want those.  Even Dad.”

“Won’t take that chance,” he shook his head.  

“Yeah, I get it,” Timmy agreed.  “Just think about it. Dad will be an asshole, but Mom will be thrilled. She deserves a call.”

“I’ll think about it,” John replied. “When do you ship out again?”

“Two days, you?” Tim took another sip of his beer and slipped the photo in his pocket.

“Not sure and I saw that.  Give me back my picture,” he grinned, holding out his hand.

“Oh, come on,” Timmy wheedled.  “She’s my niece.  Let me have it.”

“No.  It’s the only one I have. You’re not snaking my only picture of my daughter.”

“She’s my niece.  Your hot nurse will send you another,” Timmy laughed.

“Yeah, in six months, when the mail catches up with me again,” he replied, snatching the picture and putting it in his pocket, fending off Tim’s attempts to get it back.

“You’re still no fun, Johnny Ray,” he pouted.  

“Tell you what, next time the mail catches up to me, if there is another picture of Becca, I’ll give you this one,” John promised.  

“Then I’ll want the newest one,” he smirked.  “But I guess that’ll have to do.”

_________

“Kreese, I need to speak to you,” the base commander approached him as the unit was returning.  

He sighed.  What he really wanted was to sleep.  Not go over endless questions and paperwork with the Commander.  “Can’t it wait until I get a shower and a cup of coffee, Major?”

“Not this time, Son,” he shook his head.  

“Just go ahead then,” he sighed again.

The Major looked down and seemed to be having a hard time finding his words.  “Your brother, Private Timothy Kreese was brought into the hospital…, his wounds were too serious.  I’m sorry, John.  He didn’t make it.” He held out a set of dog tags.

John took them in a daze, still not believing it, as his soldiers crowded around to show their sympathy and support.

“His body is still in processing, if you’d like to pay your respects.”

“Thank you, Major,” John said, barely above a whisper. He swallowed hard, then turned to his men.  “Go ahead and get cleaned up, get some grub, you know what to do. I’ll…, um…, I’ll check in in a bit.”

“You want someone to go with you, Captain?” Racine asked.

“No,” he shook his head.  “You all need to rest.  They’ll probably send us back out first thing in the morning.  Take the time while you can.”

“Cap, we don’t mind,” another spoke up.  

“That’s an order,” Kreese replied.  “Racine, you’re in charge.”

“Yes, sir.”

He walked towards the makeshift morgue.  

“Oh, Timmy,” he sighed, finding the right table.  He pulled the sheet back.  He looked so young.  Too young to be there.  Too young to be gone.  “You weren’t supposed to be here.  I’m sorry. I was supposed to protect you.  I…, I’m sorry I left.  I’m sorry I wasn’t there.  I’m sorry I wasn’t here…,” he wiped his eyes.  “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better brother.  Maybe if I had…, let you take care of yourself more…, you…, well, it’s too late now.”

He fell silent, standing next to his brother.  At some point, he became aware of a tall figure standing guard in the doorway.  He should have known that Silver wouldn’t listen, even to direct orders.  He’d deal with that later.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, but when the light started showing through the door, he finally said goodbye.  

“I’ll call Mom. You were right.  She deserves a call.” He leaned down, putting his head against his brother’s forehead. “I love you, kid.” Just before pulling the sheet back up, he took the picture of Becca from his pocket and slipped it in Timmy’s pocket. “You would have been the greatest Uncle.”

He was surprised to see Silver still standing guard, though now he was more leaning against the doorway than standing in it. He hadn’t said a word all night.  That had to be some type of record.

“Come on, Silver,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder.  “Let’s get back to training.  I won’t lose you too.”